Incidentally, I'm Not Ready
by taboo-starbow
Summary: Dean’s lonely, and it’s all Seamus’ fault. If he would just stop smiling at him, if he would just stop making his heart skip a beat, Dean would be okay...
1. Homework session

Hello, person reading this! Looks like I'm back! A third story… that makes it so I've submitted once per day, I think. (Even if might say otherwise, it's once per day where I live…) I'm going to briefly speak to my reviewers again before moving on. :3

_**Ruby**_- As you can see, I decided to call you by your name! I figured it's more personal and friendly. Hee. Let's see… I feel like I should review a couple of your stories that I really like. I would have reviewed them aaages ago if I wasn't shy. Haha. In the next couple of days, I'm gonna be sure to go write some reviews! And, thanks for your comments on my last story, I'm really glad you liked it. :3

_**Euclidian**_- Hello, again! First thing's first, I'm gonna say that your reviews are really good to read. Secondly, to answer some of your comments: I really didn't have too much of an idea with where I was going with DDD, haha. I don't think I was trying too hard to make a story past a humorous plot; writing the story took about twenty-thirty minutes, tops. It does occur to me that I should have put more thought into it and not concentrated on repeating one joke, though… But! Don't worry about it. I don't think I'm gonna be writing something like that again, and if I do, it won't be for a while; this next story is more serious, so I do think I'm just writing all sorts of genres to see where I fit in most comfortably. But again, I really do enjoy reading your comments, they help a lot!

Okay, next part…! Man, my intros take forever. Sorry guys! Maybe I should put my answering-reviews comments separately; does this take up too much space?

**Disclaimer:** Even if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't make this story you're about to read be canon. ;-; It makes me feel guilty to make Dean cry.

**Rating:** PG!

**Notes:** This is a bit sadder than my last two stories, which were fluffy love followed by nonsensical crazies. So if you don't want to see a teary Dean, look away.

**Summary: **Dean's lonely, and it's all Seamus' fault. If he would just stop smiling at him, if he would just stop making his heart skip a bit, Dean would be okay…

OKAYFINALLY.

--

Dean wasn't ready for this.

Seamus' eyes were dancing. He was sitting across from Dean, grumbling about his homework, complaining about just how _terrible _that rude Snape is, always doing things like giving Seamus extra work just because he accidentally melts his desk. Honestly, it's not even Seamus' fault! Neville was sitting next to him, he could have stopped him.

Still, even though he was just moaning and groaning about work, Dean saw his eyes dancing.

They were just there. They were just… there. They weren't alive, they weren't capturing the light from the fireplace in a non-earthly beauty, they weren't. They were just there. And yet Dean was inexplicably drawn to them. Dean bit his lip. Now the eyes were looking directly at him. Ah, did Seamus say something…? Dean had zoned out.

"Deeaan?" Seamus questioned, lightly kicking his friend's leg under the table. Dean blinked, tuned back in, and nodded. "Ah, yeah, I agree."

Seamus frowned. "You agree?" He sighed, and Dean felt a pang of loss when his friend closed his eyes. "Dean, I'll ask again. Hopefully you'll listen to me this time!" Seamus pouted his lip, and Dean nodded with a quiet 'sorry'. "Do you know what the difference is between…"

For the next few hours of the evening, Seamus listed off a bunch of potions related questions, and Dean answered without breaking eye contact. He had already finished his homework; this is usually what happens. Dean would finish his work and for the rest of the night, he would just help his friend while complaining that he should stop trying to light things on fire if he didn't want homework as punishment. Tonight, it was different.

He was helping his friend. But he wasn't complaining. He was just watching Seamus with a dull stare. And he was sad. He didn't notice he was sad, though. Not until about four and a half hours into this, when Seamus had finished one of his many essays (that he had left for two weeks, starting it the night before it was due). That was when Dean realised he was sad.

Dean had been quiet, watching Seamus, feeling his heart begin to shift a little. It wasn't a big change, but it was the start of one. His thoughts began to focus on himself instead of how Seamus' hair caught the light, or how he had that smell of very, very faint patchouli. 'I'm quiet,' Dean thought to himself, 'So why hasn't he noticed? I'm not talkative, shouldn't he notice me…? Shouldn't he ask why I'm acting strangely?'

Why did he want to be noticed? This was Dean's next train of thought. 'Surely, it's just because I'm his best friend, and I want him to know things about me…' reasoned Dean. 'I'm not good with words,' he reminded himself, 'and Shay is my closest friend, so I want him to be able to figure out the things that I can't say.'

Dean gripped his robe, looking across the table at Seamus. It was around one in the morning, now. Everyone had gone to bed – most people had finished their homework, and the people that hadn't had given up and reasoned that a zero mark wouldn't be so bad. Seamus would have gone to bed hours ago if it wasn't for the fact that he knew Dean wouldn't let him.

The Irish boy grumbled at his transfiguration essay as if it had committed some deep, unforgivable personal sin to the entire Finnigan family. Dean told Seamus not to complain – mostly out of habit than actual irritation. He wasn't focused on Seamus anymore. He was looking around the common room, biting his cheek.

They were alone. From the top of the stairs disappearing behind a wall to the very tip of the entrance through the portrait hole, Seamus and Dean were the only people in the common room. Dean's throat closed up. He had been alone with Seamus often, why was it making his stomach hurt now?

Seamus stood and made his way over to the table closest to the fireplace – he had been eyeing it for hours, and now that nobody else was using it, he took his chance. Dean was beckoned over shortly; he nodded, clenching his jaw, and tripping dumbly over his feet as soon as he tried to walk, landing with a thud on the carpet.

"Dean, are you okay?" Seamus asked with a sing-song voice that made Dean's heart skip a beat. Dean looked up from the floor, irritated that Seamus hadn't even turned from his work. "Yeah, I am," he forced himself to say, finally moving to sit with his best friend.

Seamus looked up at Dean when he sat down, his smile brighter than the fire nearby. Dean's eye twitched, but Shay had gone back to his essay and didn't notice.

"… Seamus."

"Hmm?" The Irish boy looked up again, smiling widely.

"I think you should… have a break. We can talk without you casting death glances at the poor essay," Dean choked out.

"Oooh? Really? Sure. Any excuse for a break," he laughed, haphazardly throwing his quill on the table and resting against his armchair. "Wassup, my Deany boy?"

Dean paused, looking away, busying himself with adding a log to the fireplace.

"H…" Dean started. His voice went silent, and Seamus, again, didn't notice.

Shay yawned, stretching his limbs until Dean heard cracks, and then picked up his essay. "It's weird," Seamus muttered. "We're in a world of magic and wizardry and we see wonderful miracles every day while those cute little muggles go about their business. And yet, I complain about homework. Shouldn't I look forward to it?"

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Weird to see you using your brain."

Seamus yawned again, shrugged, and threw his essay in a random direction. Dean watched with disinterest as it landed in a pile of pillows on the ruby sofa.

"… H …" Dean tried to start again, his voice a little louder. Perhaps Seamus would notice him, and guess what he wanted to ask, so he wouldn't have to say it.

But again, Seamus paid no attention to his friend. He was busy looking at his finger nails.

Dean clenched his fists, holding his breath for no reason that he could understand. His lungs just seemed to stop as he reworded the question he wanted to scream as loud as he could.

"H… how d…"

Seamus actually did look up this time, and Dean bit his tongue when he realised he'd actually have to say it now. Seamus never let him say "nevermind" – he never, ever let people back out of saying something.

"… how do you deal when you get a crush?"

… Silence.

"Awww! Deany has a crush!" Seamus grinned at his friend, resisting the urge to jump over and cuddle him to death.

Dean scowled and shook his head. "I didn't say that…" he dismissed, and Seamus laughed. "I bet you do, though. Whose the lucky girl?"

The fact that Seamus instantly said "girl" sent a spike of self-hate and fear through Dean's spine. He hated himself for only a second – a brief thought, 'is it really that bad to not like a girl?' – but after that, he hated himself for hating himself. There was no need to feel like that. It wasn't important. Fear, though… for less than a second, his bones were cold, his eyes stung, and his heart stopped. He realised, finally, that he had feelings for his best friend. And that, honestly, was far more terrifying than his possible sexuality.

"Come on, tell me," Seamus bugged, "or I won't do my homework."

Dean shook his head. "Forget I said anything. I don't have a crush, I…"

"I bet you do!" repeated Shay, folding his arms. "Why else would you ask?"

Dean paused for a fraction of a moment before coming up with a story. "You always have crushes, don't you? You've had tons of girlfriends, everyone knows you're a flirt… and uh, the only person I really have close to me is you and my mum, so…"

Seamus nodded, apparently satisfied. "It's okay, Dean. You'll fall in love some day. And when you get married to a really hot girl, you can recommend me a single bride's maid."

"Mmm," Dean replied, Seamus getting back to his homework with a mutter of "gotta get it done eventually".

For a couple more hours, Seamus worked hard. He finally finished his transfiguration essay, and moved on to his last piece of work.

"Charms!" Seamus grinned. "This will be exciting. It's practical, too. Do you remember in first year, I blew up a feather when we tried to make it float?" He laughed. "It's five years later and I'd probably still mess up."

Dean smiled back, the first smile he had during the night. He realised he must have been having a serious face for a while; his mouth actually hurt when he changed expression.

Resting with his face in his hands, Dean watched Seamus for the next twenty minutes. It was nearing 3:30 now, but he would stay up with his friend as long as it took. Besides, he wanted to.

His eyes were still dancing, Dean noticed. They were actually sparkling this time. Seamus was intense with concentration, glaring at his wand, saying very nasty things to it in a hushed tone. Even when his poor wand was called a "twig ripped from the clog in Professor Snape's sewerage drain that should learn to cast charms already", his entire face seemed to glow.

Dean caught himself, suddenly. His eyes had moved from Shay's eyes to his nose (which he thought was really quite cute), his nose to his lips (which looked soft; he wondered if his owns were soft), his lips to his neck (he noticed how Seamus' skin was so white that it gave such a bright contrast to his black robes). Dean shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this… he shouldn't be thinking like this about his own best friend…

"I don't…" mumbled Dean, and Seamus stopped telling his wand to lose some weight to look up at his friend. "I don't… want…" he clung to his sleeves, closing his eyes and bending over.

Seamus tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

Dean ran his hands through his hair.

"Would you date someone, out of pity?"

The Irish boy paused at the question. "Eh?" he set down his quill, looking at his friend. "No way. Why would I do that?" Shay smiled. "Why take pity on someone, going out with them even if you don't like them? That's pretty unfair, considering they'd go to the trouble of asking you out and everything…" he scratched his cheek. "Wouldn't you feel bad if the person that you like dated you out of pity?"

Dean's jaw clenched and he looked down. If the person he liked did that…? Seamus nodded.

"See? It would be bad, right? You'd feel all sad and—"

"…happy…"

"…eh?" Seamus blinked.

"I… would be happy. Even if it were because of p… no. I … if it were the person I like… I would be happy if it were because of _anything._"

Seamus blinked again, laughing. "Oh, I get it! You're just lonely, right?" Seamus sat next to Dean. "I guess you have been a bit quiet tonight. Maybe you were thinking about this sort of thing? Don't worry." Seamus gave Dean the thumbs up. "If I were a girl, I would fall head over heels for you!"

Dean's eyebrow twitched, and he clung to his hair. "No, I…"

"C'mon! Don't worry. You'll find a girl!"

"I don't want…"

"Sure you do. Everyone wants a girl eventually!" Seamus smiled.

Dean felt a pang in his throat. It was hard to swallow, his insides were hot and wouldn't sit still. "… Seamus."

Shay sighed, nodded, and turned to look at the fireplace. "I won't push it, but… if you're troubled, you should at least tell me, you know. I'm your best friend, so I can help. We're friends, so that's what we're here for, right? Helping each other out!"

Something snapped in Dean. It could have been the term "best friend" that did it, or Seamus' attitude about being "just friends." In a swift motion, Dean had knocked over the coffee table, grabbed Seamus' wrist and pulled him to the floor.

"…?! Dean?!"

"Don't… say… that."

"Gwah?!" Shay stared from under Dean – his look of shock would be quite comical if it wasn't for the situation.

"I… please don't call me that." His grip on Seamus' wrist tightened. "Because… it… I wanted to call you my best friend… you know? Because it might mean, you'd notice me more, or… or because you're the 'best'… but I … I mean, I don't … I mean, you're… more… maybe…"

Dean clung to Seamus.

Seamus smiled.

"I'm not a girl, Dean…"

Dean felt his chest tighten. Was he being rejected before he could even properly say it?

"I know you're lonely for some affection, but I'm not a girl, you know? It's not something your best friend can give you!" Seamus kept smiling. "But don't worry, okay? You'll definitely find someone to love, and you two will stay together forever, skipping classes to go make out by the lake! You're good looking, and cute, and your personality is great too. Like I said! If I were a girl, I'd fall head over heels for you!"

…

"… Eh? D-Dean?"

Dean's face moved lower, coming within half an inch of Seamus'.

"… D…?"

Their lips met. He kept his eyes open during the kiss, as did Seamus. Shay's eyes weren't dancing, which hurt Dean enough to make him cry. A small drop of water landed on the Irish boy's cheek.

"See?"

He stood up, his friend still staring in shock. Did he just get kissed by his best friend...?! Scratch that, had Dean even HAD a first kiss? Did he just take his best friend's first kiss?!

"There's no way that I'll visit the lake, is there?!"

Despite the curfew laws, Dean couldn't be near Seamus for the rest of the night. Leaving the portrait hole ajar as he ran out, Seamus stared after him.

His face burning hot enough to melt the arctic, Seamus curled his knees closer to him, putting one hand on his lips and one hand where Dean's tear fell.

Certainly, neither of them were ready for this.

--

Okay. I think this will be a two parter. If not, it'll stay like this and have an unfinished, bad ending. Hmm! I'll write the second part soon then. Is it interesting so far?! I've never written something like this, it feels quite weird. But yeah! I don't think I'm too happy with this story so far, and I feel I've definitely made some repetitiveness with vocabulary… let me know what you guys think, okay?! I'm also nervous that I didn't do angsty Dean very much justice...

And bleh... I really need to find myself a beta...


	2. The Day After

Omg I feel bad that I didn't write anything yet

Omg I feel bad that I didn't write anything yet. SORRY GUYS. I've been distracted with anime and books and drawing and music and work. No excuse, but still! Uwaa. Quick replies to reviews!

_**hydraspit**_- Thanks a lot for your review! Brief comments like that are actually really motivating for me. Also, I'd like to say that you have a kickass username.

_**Ruby**_- Don't worry, don't worry! This chapter is happier. As of writing this reply, I haven't decided on an ending yet… One idea is that it'll be a sad ending, one idea is that it'll be a happy ending. I like both paths, hm. I guess you'll have to read on to see! And thanks for the comments re:my beta issue. It made me feel super confident! But I should still probably find one, just because it could be embarrassing otherwise. Haha.

_**Euclidian**_- Waa, I feel bad; I didn't see your review until just as I was about to upload this second part. But, um, if it helps, a lot of this chapter has Shay's perspective in it! And ahh, thanks so much for the corrections. It's true that I need a beta, mm. I need to stop being shy and go poke around for one! I've also been toying around with the idea if I should make a sequel for "Lemonade…", because I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a sequel to this story if I get motivated for it – perhaps I can make it tie into "Lemonade" somehow. Hmmm. I should think about this. I kinda agree with the comment that it should go on for more than one night, but I'm unsure how to fix it… really does make me want to make a sequel/prequel of some kind. Anyway, thanks for the review!

**Notes-** This chapter is less angsty and more Seamus-is-an-idiot and Dean-is-pretty-lovestruck. Umm. It skips through time a lot… one minute it'll be focusing on Dean, and the next minute it'll be focusing on what Seamus is doing at the same time. I hope it's not too confusing… anyway, the best part of this chapter is the end conversation… I think. ANYWAY READ ON.

Okay, everyone, be sure to review if you like it, okay? I'll love you all sooo much if you do. :3

--

Dean didn't return to the common room at all that night. In fact, Seamus didn't see him at breakfast the next day. Nor for most of his lessons.

Seamus felt bad about it, but he was kind of glad.

The immense tug of guilt at the back of his throat was driving Seamus insane. He felt relieved that he didn't have to see Dean right now, and he hated himself for it. There is no reason to ever want to avoid your best friend, but seeing Dean right now seemed like the scariest thing in the world.

It wasn't until the last lesson that Dean showed up. Seamus, with his mind on his best friend all day and his cheeks burning each time he remembered the previous night, was failing class more than usual. It was transfiguration, which is probably the worst class to be distracted in – he had accidentally transformed Ron's head into a basketball no more than ten minutes prior.

When Seamus saw his best friend walk into class, he instantly screamed. Nobody noticed, which he was thankful for, because it was an embarrassingly feminine yelp. Dean paid no attention to his friend as he found a seat next to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Seamus glared at the back of his friend's head, slightly hurt that he was being ignored. When Dean turned to look at him, however, Seamus' face exploded into a not-so-delicate shade of scarlet. Screaming "T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-TOILET", he grabbed his bag and ran from the classroom.

Dean made no reaction and turned back to the pile of weeds he was supposed to transfigure into a tiny replica of the Whomping Willow. Although Harry and Ron practically ignored Dean in favour of making their baby trees fight each other, Hermione scooted closer to him.

"Did you and Seamus have a fight?"

Dean coughed. "No."

"Are you sure?" Hermione arched an eyebrow. "It's pretty obvious that something happened. I mean, to see you two not sitting together… well, it's about as odd as Professor Snape modelling sexy lingerie for Professor Dumbledore."

Dean dropped his wand in shock, shuddering at the imagery. "Hermione Granger, your intelligence causes you to come up with the sickest things."

Hermione smiled sadly. "So you don't want to tell me? It could help. I'm pretty good at solving problems, if I may say so myself."

Resting his chin on his hands, the boy said nothing, choosing instead to watch the mosquito flying in front of his face. He sighed, a long and deep sigh, and instantly felt bad when the insect he was watching was blown away with his breath.

"I kissed him," Dean mumbled, watching the mosquito fly in front of him again while buzzing in annoyance.

This time, it was Hermione who dropped her wand in shock. Ron and Harry stopped their trees fighting to turn and listen in. "You what? You kissed who? Who was she?" Ron asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Seamus," Dean replied, wriggling his nose as the mosquito landed on it.

Ron's mouth formed a small "o" shape, while Harry was broken out of his own surprise when his baby willow punched him in the chest. With a brief "Oof!", he moved the mini tree as far away from him as he could, glaring at it.

"Well, a kiss between friends isn't that bad, is it?" Hermione asked. "It's just playing around, it's not like there's anything serious behind it. I know that me and Ginny—"

"WHAT."

Ron and Harry pointed at Hermione. Ron's face was caught between disgust and arousal, while Harry was entirely shocked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was only kidding. A kiss should be between someone you love." She turned to face Dean again, who was still blankly staring into space. Harry and Ron were still pointing, their expressions frozen still.

"I'm sorry, it's probably insensitive of me to joke around… so, do you love him?" Hermione asked with a grin, resting her arms on her desk.

Dean finally reacted, yelling out and rubbing his forehead. "I don't know! I'm not ready for this! Nobody should love their best friend, it's weird."

"And… like… it's a bloke… mate."

Harry, Hermione and Dean stared at Ron.

Ron's ears turned red. "W-well! If it's a bloke…"

"You'd rather date Harry then, like, Umbridge," Dean pointed out, and Ron coughed.

"I… that's… a point… … hm…" His eyes narrowed on Harry's. "I… guess, if it came to it, if Harry was a girl, I'd date him over a lot of people… … well I guess I'd date him over a lot of people anyw…"

"Okay!" Hermione pounded her fist on the desk, and Ron snapped out of his trance. "You can be gay for Harry later! We're trying to help Dean, okay?"

Dean laughed quietly. "Don't worry. I won't see him for a while, so I don't need to worry. I have to go to the library to catch up on all the work I missed today, so I get to put off talking to him."

Hermione "hmm"ed. "Where were you today anyway?"

"The lake. And the forest. And…" Dean paused, rubbing his forehead to stimulate his memory. "I don't really remember. Most of the time I was just walking… kinda. I did a lot of drawings, though. It was nice to get so much work done, even if I missed school for it…"

Hermione "hmm"ed again.

"Okay," she grinned, patting Dean on the head. "Go and find him and make up. Okay? I'll do all the homework you missed, and I'll teach you everything tomorrow or next time we meet."

"Eh?!" Ron stood up suddenly, pointing at Hermione. "You! You! You never let us copy off you!"

"I let Harry," she replied.

Harry sheepishly nodded. Ron gaped at the two of them.

"Well, Harry's just lazy, he understands the work." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're slow. You need to learn properly. And if I tutor you, you'll just copy the work and not try to understand it, so…"

Dean tuned out as the three of them argued for a while. After a few minutes, though, he decided to take Hermione's advice. "Alright. Thanks, Hermione."

"And another thing, Ron, you really need to wash your feet—oh!" Hermione grinned at Dean as he stood up. "Going after him? Good luck!"

Dean nodded, leaving the classroom after telling Professor McGonagall that he was going to see what was taking Seamus so long.

Wandering the halls, however, he realised he had no idea where his friend would be – he also realised he wasn't ready to see him. Dean didn't want to see his friend's always ever-styled blonde hair, he didn't want to see his friend's stupid grin, he didn't want to see his friend's almost-porcelain skin…

Dean shook his head. That was a lie. Of course he did. He just wasn't ready to admit that he did. Pacing back and forth in front of a wall-sized window, Dean bit his nails. Even if he found Seamus, what would he say? 'Oh, sorry about the ol' snogging back then, mate. Just thought that your lips looked so cute, like a girl's. Just a bit of fun between friends, anyway! When I was complaining about not visiting the lake, I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to kiss a girl with lips like yours! Anyway, fancy a shag before dinner? Just between friends, I mean nothing by it!'

Dean sighed. He knew he'd have to tell the truth eventually. "I love you", he'll have to say. There isn't any way to avoid it now. Banging his head firmly against the wall, he went over the phrase in his mind.

'I love you, Seamus!' Dean will have to say. He needs to learn how to say it; he's not good with words, let alone words like those.

He stopped banging his head on the wall and turned back to the giant window. He swallowed and stared at his reflection.

"Okay," Dean told himself. "Practice… practice. You can do it, Dean!" he told his reflection. "You're… good at… stuff, after all!"

Dean paused and felt heat rising to his face. He looked around the empty corridor, scanning for any sign of life that could be spying on him, and sighed with relief when he confirmed nobody was around.

"Okay. Practice." Dean pointed at his reflection. "S… Seamus. I… l… l… l-l-lov…"

Dean swallowed the words, shaking his head. "Okay, try again!" He pumped his fists, readying himself. "Seamus! I… l… lov… … I lovingly cuddle kittens! You should take care of animals, after all-- … hm." Dean shook his head. That wasn't good either.

"Ahh, jeez!!" he yelled at the empty corridor. "Why do I have to tell him anyway? Just because I didn't EXPLICITLY tell him that I l… l… lov… … just because I didn't EXPLICITLY tell him that I like him, doesn't mean he won't know! So I don't have to tell him ever."

Dean paced back and forth even faster, wondering when he was going to burn a hole in the floor.

"But…" he paused, folding his arms. "I'm getting irritated by this… You know you're in love when your heart's fluttering every damn day. I think. I mean, I guess. Something…"

Leaning against the wall, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor.

Dean pulled out a muggle notebook from his robe's pocket, absently staring at it. This was the book he had been drawing in as he mindlessly wandered Hogwarts since last night. He honestly had no recollection of anything he drew; he knew he had sketched a picture of the forest and a picture of Hagrid trying to pull up some blue cat-sized carrots from his garden, but apart from that, Dean was too focused on his friend to pay attention.

His drawing had become a sort of habit. His hands would feel wrong if he wasn't holding a pen or pencil or quill or paintbrush or anything else he could draw with. As such, even on good days he wouldn't remember every sketch he did on a desk or a table or a chair or an assignment.

That said, it was still unnerving to open the sketchbook and see dozens of Seamus' staring at him each page.

Each Seamus was smiling or laughing or being happy. There was one picture where Dean had tried to capture his adorable pouting expression, but apparently, he wasn't happy with it – the giant scribble covering most of it up rang true to that.

Dean sighed, closing the notebook. He had to find Seamus.

--

After screaming that he had to go to the bathroom, Seamus escaped as fast as he could from transfiguration. Looking back as he left the door, he felt a pang in his heart when Dean ignored him and spoke to Hermione.

Pacing in front of a giant window (that his friend would pace in front of a few minutes later), Seamus went over the situation in his mind.

"I can't believe I kissed my friend like that," he mumbled, touching his lips softly. The feelings Dean had seemed to be lingering exactly where he kissed Seamus. "This is silly anyway!" he nodded, folding his arms. "There's no reason for me to be nervous. I've kissed boys before, at parties and stuff." Seamus hesitated when he realised he was speaking out loud. He looked around the hall and noticed a first year girl staring up at him, her eyes flashing and her cheeks boiling hot.

"… h-hello?"

"You've kissed a boy?" she asked, biting her fingernails.

"… Um."

The girl blushed brighter, put her hands on her cheeks, and ran off with an excited laugh. Seamus arched an eyebrow, but shook it off. He had more important things to worry about than the birth of a fangirl.

Seamus paced even faster, shaking his head. Why was he getting worked up about this? Surely it was just some misunderstanding. Dean was just lonely, and Seamus was right there. It's not like they had any feelings for each other. … Maybe.

He stopped pacing to look out the window. Just why exactly was he so bothered by this? As he said, it was a misunderstanding. Just a mix-up. Just a …

His train of thought stopped.

Oh, shit.

Suddenly, a flurry of realizations and questions hit Seamus like a speed train.

How long had Dean felt this way? Did Seamus actually realize but wasn't actually ready to admit it? How can he argue that Dean was just confused and lonely? Seamus had been confused and lonely, it's a teenager's job to feel like that every now and then, but he's never kissed his best friend. Besides that, Seamus probably really hurt Dean – he said "If I were a girl, I would fall for you, Dean"… Dean's heart must have broken if he really did love Seamus. Love. Love? No way. It was just like! LIKE! LIIIKE.

"… Either way." Seamus clenched his jaw. "No matter how he feels about me, or… how I feel about him…" he rubbed his head. "No matter what, I don't want to lose my best friend."

Seamus nodded and turned around, walking briskly back to his class room. He reached for the door handle, pausing, biting his tongue with nerves. Listening at the door, however, he heard Hermione's voice – "going after him? Good luck!" or something… And then he heard footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps – Dean's footsteps. Squealing under his breath, Seamus hid in a corridor, watching from the shadows as Dean passed him.

Seamus stood still. He could stop Dean and talk to him, but he was still a little nervous, and wasn't ready to talk just yet. His confidence had failed when he realised he had no idea what to say. Watching his best friend, though, he realised he hadn't been noticed, and decided to follow him.

He watched as Dean strolled through the halls, making sure to hide in a fake wall or an enchanted painting or behind a suit of armour whenever Dean looked behind him. He grinned with satisfaction when Dean stopped at the window that Seamus was looking out of a few minutes earlier – even though they were so different, they had little things like this in common.

Dean said "okay" and then started talking about practice. Seamus raised an eyebrow. What was all this about, then…?

"Seamus! I… I… lov…"

Seamus' breath caught in his chest. W-w-w-w-w-what?! Oh, no. Was Dean preparing for a confession?! How on earth would Seamus be able to react to that? W… well… maybe it wouldn't be… that… bad—no! No! Seamus couldn't think like that! Why did he think that?! His heart fluttered wildly, and he didn't notice the grin on his face.

"… ingly cuddle kittens …"

… was what Seamus heard next. His heart felt trapped in his throat. He slowly fell to the floor, landing in a sloppy kneeling position. That was it? That was it?! Dean loves animals?! Damn it, why would he need to tell anyone that?! And he was talking to a window anyway. That was weird! Did he need to remind himself to take care of animals or something?!

"Ah, jeez!!" Dean yelled, and Seamus poked his head out from behind the corner he had hid behind. "Why do I have to tell him anyway? Just because I didn't EXPLICITLY tell him that I l… l… lov… … just because I didn't EXPLICITLY tell him that I like him, doesn't mean he won't know! So I don't have to tell him ever."

Seamus put a hand to his mouth, stepping back into the hallway. Waah! It was true! Dean did have… certain… feelings for him! Biting on his fingers to keep from crying out, Seamus felt like the jackhammer that is his heart was going to break his chest.

"… I'm getting irritated by this …"

Seamus' ears picked up, and his stomach flipped.

"You know you're in love when your heart's fluttering every damn day…"

Seamus paused, and slowly, he felt life drain out of him. He was limp, and he stared into space as if it were a particularly boring Professor Binns lecture.

Maybe that was why he was being so troubled by this…?

Seamus gripped his robes, desperate to busy his hands with something.

It made sense, didn't it…? Why else would he overreact like this? If it was anyone other than Dean that kissed him, Seamus would have laughed it off, thrown his arm around them and asked if they wanted to go steal some juice from the kitchen. It wouldn't have been anything to him. So if it was Dean…?

Seamus frowned. But Dean was his best friend! Dean had always made his heart leap whenever he smiled, and Seamus' stomach had done so many loop-de-loops over the past few years, usually because Dean showed him a drawing he made of his number one Irish friend…

He shook his head. That was just how best friends felt each other! Seamus knew it was usual, it had to be. Surely Ron felt like this for Harry, and Draco's monkey bodyguards felt like that for each other, and Lavender and Parvati… … maybe …

Seamus growled silently. He felt kind of… put-off… that someone else could feel what he did. He had always been jealous if Dean went to play with other people, which is why he was so glad Dean preferred his art.

But isn't that normal for friends…? That's just what Seamus always assumed!

…

But if it's not, did he make Dean cry for nothing?

Seamus stood, pumping his fists and nodding with determination. Okay! He didn't quite know how he felt, but he figured it didn't matter. No matter what, he didn't want to be apart from Dean any longer. With wobbly legs, Seamus stepped outside the corridor, blushing too much to look up at his friend.

--

When Dean closed his notebook and forced himself to go and find Seamus, what he didn't expect was Seamus to be ten feet in front of him.

"Uh," he started, causing Seamus to lower his head even more.

"It's nice and sunny today," Dean muttered, clutching his sleeves.

… Seamus burst into laughter.

"There's so much tension and you're talking about the weather?" he laughed between gasps, and Dean's mouth twitched at the corner, hinting at a smile.

Folding his arms, trying to at least APPEAR serious, Dean bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing. "Well, jeez! What else am I supposed to say? It's kind of… mmm…"

Silence fell between the two of them now, a ridiculously thick blanket of awkwardness.

"W-w-well," Seamus muttered, coughing into his fist. He felt like he should tell Dean he was eavesdropping, but… Dean was practicing for a confession, and the back of Seamus' mind wondered what it would be like…

Dean sighed. "Maybe we can just forget about it, okay? It's only been a day, but I sorta miss sitting with you at lunch and stuff. It feels weird, so…"

"No no!" Seamus waved his hands in front of himself. "I, uh, feel like I should apologise, because I didn't really… know your feelings… so I probably said something bad last night… uh…" he ruffled his hair and laughed. "I don't know why it's such a big deal, we're still really good friends, and I'm not mad at you… maybe you're mad at me though."

Dean shook his head. "It's not that you did anything wrong, but…" he turned to look at the window, purposefully studying a smudge on the glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm usually focused on my art, so I uh… don't really know about this sort of thing, because I haven't really learned about people besides when they're being drawn… it's all pretty sudden, and I'm kinda… not ready…"

"Ah, yeah, I know the feeling…"

Dean paused.

"You know the feeling? Of… what…? Not knowing people? You're a total party animal, how could you…?"

"Not that. Jeez." Seamus laughed. "You know, just… suddenly… uh… not being ready when you… um, I mean… … ah!" Seamus' face burst into steam. "Ah! No, nevermind, I uh… nothing! So!"

Dean stared.

"Seamus," Dean started. His voice was low, and Seamus stepped back out of nervousness. "I'm not entirely in the mood to play games, y'know? You can't just say something like that if you know how I…" Dean paused, his tongue unable to unwrap itself long enough to say 'how I feel about you'.

"No, no!" Seamus shook his head, almost dancing on the spot. "No, no, I just… that's not what I intended, but… mn." He paused, thinking. "I just… might… know… what it's like… to have just. Feelings. Exist. From nowhere. Or rather, they might have already existed… but… but you don't KNOW they existed… and it's like "I'm not ready for this, though, I have things to do in my life, like have fun while I'm young instead of want something so serious"… k… kinda…"

Dean clenched his fists. "O… oh."

"S… so." Seamus laughed. "Guess we better get back to class, huh?!"

Dean stared.

"Err, yeah," Seamus muttered, looking at the ground.

"Maybe I am ready," Dean thought aloud. "I mean, all I've been doing is complaining that you'll never love me and then complaining that I have to tell you I love you even though you already know…" He looked at his friend, frowning slightly.

"L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-LO-LO-LO-LO-LOV-V-V-V—"

"Yes, Seamus. Love." Dean's heart stopped when he looked at his friend. "I think, by now, that's a bit obvious, wouldn't you say?"

"… Y-yeah, but just… to hear it is kinda…!"

Dean nodded and shrugged. "Well, if that's the way you feel, I'll get out of your way."

Seamus made a small "Ah--!" noise as his friend turned around, walking from Seamus' view. Seamus glared behind him. "You can't just do that! We're in the middle of a conversation!"

Pulling off his shoe, the Irishman threw it as hard as he could at the back of his friend's head.

Dean stopped in his tracks when it collided with his skull, and with a laugh, turned back to his friend. "You're a little kid," he sighed.

"I don't care!" Seamus stomped his foot (the one that was still wearing a shoe, so it would be louder, and _clearly _more intimidating). "You're being a brat. Don't just walk away." He pointed, even though his hand was shaking. "Dean! Sit down and talk to me."

Dean looked around the hallway. "E… erm… sit down…? Where…?"

"… O-On the floor! I-I guess!"

Dean sank to the floor, and Seamus moved closer to his friend, sitting a metre or so opposite him.

"I uh…" Seamus started, poking the floor and looking out the window. An owl was swooping over head, and Seamus briefly wondered if someone was sending a letter. "I uh… kinda… maybe uh… like you. Dean." He frowned, looking at his crossed legs. "I don't really know though. This is sorta… new… I mean." He frowned even harder. "If I do, then it means I have for a long time, but… When I have a standard Finnigan Crush as you call it, it only lasts a couple of weeks, and then I don't see that person anymore." He looked at Dean now – Dean who was staring at him with a clenched jaw and slightly watery eyes. "And I don't want it to happen with you, and it feels different to my… liking… things. So I don't…"

Seamus was cut off with a firm kiss.

It was odd. Last night, they kissed in the exact same way. It was sudden, slightly unexpected, and both their stomachs were clawing out of their skin. Seamus was too shocked last night to do anything, but this time, he kissed back. It made Dean smile, which made Seamus smile, which generally made the kissing awkward and impossible. Dean was pretty clumsy at kissing anyway; it was his second kiss of all time, after all, so Seamus took control of it.

With their tongues wrestling for a few minutes and their hands in each other's hair, both of them decided that, no, they weren't quite ready for this. It was terrifying; they were both inexperienced in this deep sort of love, they were both risking their friendship if this didn't work out, but… even with so much fear and anxiety, they were happy. And that was enough.

Breaking away from the kiss, Seamus grinned. "I love you, Dean."

"I… love you too. I-I guess."

Seamus laughed. Even now, Dean was shy.

--

A few months later, the two had really become Hogwarts' most famous couple.

"I love you"

Dean dropped the spoon he was eating breakfast with, felt heat rise in his face, and looked away.

"What. Dean I love you!"

"M-mnn."

"I love youuuu."

"O-okay! Jeez…"

"What, are you embarrassed now?" Seamus laughed, taking a bite of his toast. The two were in The Great Hall, going over their lessons for the day. Seamus was eating and talking to his friends, mostly, while Dean was sketching Seamus with a smile. That is, until all this happened.

"… Well." Dean went back to his drawing, refusing to look at his boyfriend. Boyfriend. It still sounded weird, but every time Dean heard it, he grinned. "It's not that… you just don't need to say it all the time… especially not in public…"

"I love you, Dean" Seamus laughed again.

"How can you say such embarrassing words so easily, anyway?" Dean mumbled, clinging to his sketch book.

"Don't you like them?" Seamus smiled.

"… well, that's neither this nor that…"

Seamus sighed, shaking his head. "It's weird! If it wasn't for you being so… emotional… we never would have even gotten together. But now, you don't even say that kind of thing! Why don't you say anything embarrassing?"

Dean looked away, focusing on his food. "It… it's not that, it's just…" he stabbed at his porridge. "Even if they're pretty words, if you say them trivially they'll become trivial… And they're too embarrassing to use, so… Even if I don't say them, you should know how I feel, right?"

Seamus sighed again, heavily and overdramatic. "Well, I know how you feel and all, but isn't that a bit boring?" He shrugged, resting on the table. "Mmm. I guess it's not important, so I shouldn't complain… but… It would be nice if you could put those feelings into words, you know? Just so I can hear them too. Haha."

Dean paused, resting his spoon in his bowl.

"S-Seamus…?"

"Hmm?" Seamus looked up.

Dean leant over to his boyfriend, the blonde irish boy that was sitting next to him with an innocent-even-though-he-totally-isn't expression on his face. Very, very, very softly, he cupped his hand around Seamus' ear – and very, very, very quietly, he leant in and whispered, "… iloveyou."

…

"U-uwuwua…" Seamus' face burned red.

Dean looked away, staring at his feet – which were now shaking with embarrassment.

"HEYDEANSAYTHATAGAINRIGHTNOW!!"

"NO! No matter what!! I'll never say it, ever ever again! Ever!!"

"SAY IT RIGHT NOW OR I'LL DIE!!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL DIE?!"

Despite the stern looks the teachers were giving them, and despite their friends laughing at them, the two continued like this for a while. It was really quite amazing; the two had become even closer after Dean's little breakdown a while back.

"Ah, Dean," Seamus smiled, ignoring the fact that his boyfriend was curled up and hiding his face behind his sketch book. "Want to go on a date with me next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"As long as I never ever have to say that again."

"No deal."

Dean glared. "… well, I'll go with you anyway," he sighed, and Seamus clapped in joy.

This was their life now. They were still nervous about not being _entirely _ready for their relationship, but it wasn't important. The last few months had been the two of them testing how far they can take this; going on their first date, holding hands in public, and, yes, even skipping class to go kiss each other by the lake. All of these things just made them happy, and they were even _depressed _when it was time to sleep. They missed each other.

"Sleep in my bed", Seamus had asked one day, blushing nuclear and staring at his feet. Dean had laughed, told him he wasn't _quite _ready to sleep with Seamus yet, and got punched lightly for it. But, it had just become part of their daily routine. A normal thing. Get up, brush your teeth, have breakfast, do school work, hang out mindlessly, do school work, hang out mindlessly, go to bed. Except now, they went to bed together. They really were a couple. There wasn't sex involved – yet – but that closeness, that cuddling while they slept, that sense of loss when they had to wake up in the morning… both of them wanted to keep that forever.

They were ready to spend their lives together.

--

OK. I rushed the end of this because I feared I've spent like… fifty years on this second chapter and I'm nervous that I'd get hated if it wasn't upped soon. So! Here you guys go. Let me know if there are any mistakes; with this being so hurried, there probably is. I wonder what you guys think about making a sequel/prequel? I probably won't, but… hm! I'm on the fence. If anyone has strong feelings one way or the other, let me know, okay?

Next… uh… hm. I don't know yet! Time to choose what to write about from the list of ideas I have. BUT YEAH. Is it good, guys?!


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